Last night Keith and I watched the first two episodes of the excellent BBC series Life on Mars (courtesy of DVD) which might not be particularly noteworthy as an event except that it was that very rare thing, a programme that we both enjoy watching. While we get on exceptionally well in all areas of daily life, so much so that there is ne'er a cross word between us, our TV interests are poles apart. While I am enjoying my daily fix of Emmerdale and Corrie, Keith suffers in excruciating silence, until it's his turn to wave to me across the abyss that divides our viewing tastes, whilst indulging in the pleasures (?) of more manly offerings such as Scrapheap Challenge, Salvage Squad, American Chopper et al.
(And then there was a recent Sunday afternoon when I was suffering from a migraine headache, made worse by the screeching of Grand Prix motor racing, but the less said about that the better.)
I do appreciate that he is entitled to watch his programmes and, if I find it really unbearable, I usually clamp earphones to my head and listen to music, but it is a bit of a non-starter in the staff room when everyone else is chatting about last night's Location, Location, Location or House Doctor and I suddenly chip in with an observation about the American Chopper team's latest bike design. The silence is deafening.